Playing Promises
by 14AmyChan
Summary: Little Oliver Davis is getting used to a new house and a new guardian. Maybe music can help. Oliver and Luella, mother/son. I don't even know what's up with the title. XD


_**14AmyChan: okay, I couldn't help it! I've been trying to write this Ghost Hunt fanfiction, but this idea kept bugging me, so I had to write it!**_

_**Naru: This story contains spoilers. If you have not finished the manga, then you will have no idea as to how this pertains to the main storyline. If you have no clue, then you are an idiot.**_

_**14AmyChan: *le gasp* Naru, that's mean! Didn't your mother teach you better than that?**_

_**Naru: *sighs and pinches bridge of nose* Chan-san does not own Ghost Hunt…**_

He loved three things before he left the orphanage and only three.

First off was his twin brother. As much as the boy annoyed him, he could not imagine his existence without the other's smile and perky ways. Even if he did take it to extremes at times.

Secondly was his books. Oh, how he loved to study, to fill his mind with the knowledge of others, and then be able to make propositions and clauses on his own. Even at the age of eight, the boy was studious, a workaholic in the making.

And finally was the piano. Most did not know that the young boy could play, and he liked to keep it so. If anyone were to learn of his talent with the grand piano, they would have most certainly bothered him day and night to play for them. So, he played in secrecy, whipping out a book if anyone—save his twin brother—came snooping.

Even after he and his brother were adopted, these three things did not change. He grew to accept Martin and Luella as his and Eugene's guardians, and most certainly got along with Martin better than Luella. Only for the fact that the two were so increasingly similar in mind and disposition, Martin was only more sociable than little Oliver.

Luella, on the other hand, was loud and boisterous. She could make a hurricane tame itself with her mere glare, yet also cheer a crying child in the same breath. She was hyperactive and hell-bent on getting her way when she wanted something. She could be overly bearing, yet it was slightly comforting to know that someone cared to that extent. But only slightly.

One day, a few weeks after arriving at their new home, Oliver and Eugene had decided to wander in separate directions in the mansion. Eugene set to find the door outside while Oliver scoured for the library. He searched and searched for a place of study and rest, but it's door remained elusive.

He slowly grew frustrated, for patience was not one of his more tightly held virtues, when he stumbled across yet another door. Hoping it contained the vast world of knowledge he sought, he was slightly miffed when he opened it to find a music room.

Already too frustrated to continue his search, the young boy decided to look around this newly found room for something to do. He slightly pondered making the instruments wave in the air, but soon discarded the thought as childish, something Gene would do if he had the ability. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he found it.

A grand stand piano, in excellent condition. Oliver wandered over to the instrument, then ran his fingers over an octave, playing it perfectly. He allowed a smirk on his face when he noted that the instrument was tuned properly. He closed the door to the music room without moving from his spot next to the piano and then took a seat.

A melody began to breeze through the room. A familiar, melancholy melody to the young boy's ears. It was a composition he had worked out for himself, played completely by ear, never to be written down. It was sad, yet upbeat, and the base chords echoed throughout the empty room.

Before a few soprano notes joined in, at first seemingly to clash with his piece. Oliver, thinking it was his imagination or perhaps his misuse of powers, kept playing his somber tone, while concentrating all the harder on his self-appointed task. When the higher notes kept playing—somehow along the way creating a perfect harmony with his untitled song—the young boy stopped and turned to his right.

To say he was shocked at finding Luella sitting next to him, continuing to play, was an understatement. A scowl reached his face as he sat there, deciding what to do. However, it was not long when his stubborn nature broke out and he decided to finish his tune, with or without his guardian there. His notes hopped right back into the song, and the high notes danced their way around the melody.

Luella was pleased, to say the least. She had been feeling as though the younger of the twins did not like her very much, and had been determined to find some common ground with the boy, if only to try and get him to smile. When she heard the piano from the hallway, she had been elated. When she had joined in and he had allowed her to do so, she had been ecstatic, to say the least.

The song continued in an odd combination of melancholy and medley, the two parts somehow balancing each other out with a certain sense of flair. After a few minutes, the piece came to a final note which hung in the air. Luella glanced at the young boy, and was glad she did. Had she not, she would have missed the beginnings of a smile on the young boy's face. It quickly vanished when he turned to her in the utmost seriousness.

"Don't tell anybody," he demanded, his voice and features completely serious. The woman seemed to be caught off-guard, because she looked at him in surprise, then smiled earnestly.

"I won't," she conceded. Oliver looked mistrusting, so she held her pinkie out. "Pinkie promise."

"Pinky promise?" the young boy asked, not used to the terminology. How could a digit help to ensure someone's word? Luella seemed to sense the boy's slight confusion as she gently scooped his pinkie up with her own. He seemed startled by the contact, but accepted it nonetheless. For this, Luella was grateful.

"If I lie, stick a thousand needles in my eye," she chanted happily, and then released her son's pinkie. His eyes seemed to widen in concern, though his voice seemed unaffected.

"Your eye doesn't have the circumference for one thousand needles," the boy pointed out as coolly as he could. He could not imagine anyone making a deal like this of their own free will.

"Then it looks like I'll be keeping my word, won't I?" she inquired cheerfully. Oliver looked skeptical, so she turned back to the piano. Her smile turned sad for a moment, but then brightened again. Oliver would rather die than admit to curiosity about his guardian.

"We can play again," he stated as a sort of reassurance. Before awaiting her answer, he began to play his familiar melody once again. This time, Luella's harmony came in earlier, and blended much more nicely than before.

Later that day, Oliver called Luella his mother, much to the delight and confusion of both Martin and Eugene. While the elder of the twins nagged on his brother for details—both telepathically and out loud—Martin scooted closer to his wife.

"So what happened today?" he inquired. He saw a smile as she giggled, but did not expect the finger that rose to her lips in secrecy.

"Can't tell," she chirped. Before Martin could inquire as to why, she answered with the oddest thing he had ever heard in his life.

"Evidently, my eye does not have the circumference for one thousand needles."

_**14AmyChan: I could just see him being such a little snot when he's younger! *^_^***_

_**Luella: oh, he was. The stories I will tell Mai!**_

_**Mai: I wanna know!**_

_**Naru: *death glares at Mai and Luella***_

_**Mai and Luella: *reflects death glare like bosses***_

_**14AmyChan: am I the only one thinking these two would get along really well? *^_^* anyhoot, please read and review~! *^_^***_


End file.
